


Offworld Activities

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Challenge Response
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-13
Updated: 2007-09-13
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12799920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Carson Beckett/Original character - written for oc_challenge.  Carson is injured and it's up to new crewmember Alana Kassidy to save them both.





	Offworld Activities

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Sheppard strolled onto the command deck with his usual devil-may-care saunter. 

 

"So," he began without preamble, "you really let Beckett pilot a jumper off-world?"

 

"Yes, I did," Elizabeth replied starchly. 

 

She was determined to not let Sheppard undermine her decision allowing their less-than-ace-pilot doctor use of a jumper for a simple humanitarian mission. She was equally determined he not see how much she was second-guessing thet decision, and had been since the doctor and his crew had left.

 

"He barely gets to the mainland and back behind the controls without giving himself an aneurism. You sure that was wise?"

 

"Yes!" she fairly snapped.

 

Sheppard held his hands up in front of his chest and took a literal step backwards.

 

"Hey, I'm just playing devil's advocate. If you were really that worried about the whole thing, why didn't you tell him no or make him walk."

 

"I'm not worried," she lied quickly. "And the settlement is too far from the gate to walk and carry the medical equipment. I honestly believe it's time to let Carson push his own limits. This is the perfect opportunity," she lied again smoothly.

 

"It's also a perfectly good jumper and a perfectly good doctor."

 

"He took along a field medic, a Marine and an engineer - he'll be fine," Elizabeth insisted.

 

"Anyone else on board that can pilot that thing if they had to?"

 

"The Marine, Private Hastings, and Kassidy."

 

"Then I'm sure it will be fine. Honestly, Elizabeth," he chided, "you worry too much. But let me know when you're ready to send out the search party."

 

Sheppard winked at her and wandered off in the same nonchalant manner that he had wandered in with, leaving Elizabeth clenching her jaw and staring after him, not at all reassured.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Carson Beckett was fairly certain he'd never been in quite this level of pain - not even the time Rodney Mackay had kissed him in front of Zalenka, Elizabeth, and half the engineers onboard. He shifted his weight slowly, trying to ascertain the condition of the lower half of his body - he was pretty sure his leg was broken, perhaps the pelvis as well. That diagnosis was based more on the dashboard being completely broken loose and pining him to the floor of the jumper at a very awkward angle rather than any real pain at the moment. In fact, at the moment, everything was consummately numb, something that frightened him even more than the mangled, displaced dashboard. He brushed away some dirt and leaves and placed his hands against it, pushing experimentally. 

 

Pain shot through his hip and leg, blinding, searing pain and he watched curiously as the dark edges of his vision swam together.

 

 

* * * 

 

 

"Doctor Beckett!" Alana shouted again, trying to get through to him, to bring him around.

 

He squinted, scrunching his eyes without opening them.

 

"Come on, Dr. Beckett! You gotta open your eyes!!" she intercepted. "I know you're in there! I can see your eyeballs moving!"

 

She ran her hands lightly over his chest and upper arms, checking for injuries while he kept his eyes closed and tried to will the intrusion away.

 

"I'm just gonna nag you till you do open your eyes, so you might as well get it over with!"

 

"How is everyone?" he whispered in surrender.

 

"Not so good - " she didn't bother to mince up pleasantries. They were waist deep and sinking fast, as her grandmother used to say, and she saw no real reason to cover it up. 

 

Beckett's eyes fluttered and he finally got them open. Alana moved quickly to try and block the body of Hastings, draped over what remained intact of the right-side front console, hanging out of the missing windscreen and effectively eviscerated by the broken glass. Considering that it was most likely the impact of his skull striking the glass when they'd crashed that had broken it, he probably hadn't suffered. That was definitely something...what, exactly, Alana wasn't sure, but she was trying to take some solace from it.

 

"Oh, God," Beckett moaned. "Hastings..."

 

"He was dead the instant we crashed," she gave him her theory for comfort, " there was nothing anyone could have done."

 

"I killed him," he whispered, horrified.

 

"No, you didn't, Dr. Beckett, you - "

 

"I was flying - !"

 

"No, you weren't," she corrected. "Hastings was. Don't you remember?"

 

"No," he confessed, "I don't. I remember being at the village...."

 

"We were on our way back to the Gate, you were gonna dial Atlantis and a Wraith Dart came through. We struck it before Hastings could veer off and crashed through the Gate."

 

"Through it?"

 

"Yeah, the wormhole closed before we hit it, lucky for us. We're on a planet somewhere - not sure where, mind you, but it's better than being in space right now since the windshield broke out in the crash."

 

"Wormholes don't work both ways..." Carson sputtered.

 

"Both ways?"

 

"It's a one way trip."

 

"So what would have happened if we'd flown into it if it was open inbound?"

 

"How's everyone else" he repeated pointedly, closing his eyes again."How's - " he fought to say the medic's name, he knew it, it just wouldn't...the effort to think made his head pound.

 

"Elton didn't make it," Alana filled in.

 

"And you?"

 

"Seatbelts save lives," she responded flatly.

 

Like Elton, Alana had been thrown forward as the ships collided but unlike him she'd been strapped in and survived. She had dragged his body to the cargo area in her efforts to clear the debris around Dr. Beckett.

 

"So, it's just you and I, then?" he tried to joke. "How romantic," he grinned, fading back towards unconsciousness. 

 

"Stay with me, Doctor!" Alana shook him carefully, a quick shake to the shoulders. Since he was moving his head around, an injury to the upper vertebrae seemed less likely than before.

 

Carson blinked away cobwebs and tried to focus on her.

 

"I'm going to try and get you out from under this console, okay? I need you to stay with me. If I can lift it a little, try and slide out, all right?"

 

"Don't!"

 

"We need to get this thing off of you and see if you're hurt!"

 

Carson shook his head. 

 

"We don't need to move it to know if I'm hurt," he corrected her gravely.

 

He was. She could see it in his face. He was hurt bad.

 

"I'm pretty sure I got some fractures, prob'bly compound, there may be some bleeding - if there is the pressure of the console is prob'bly keepin it in check for now," he explained clinically. "Movin it could - "

 

"...you could bleed to death if we don't get it stopped," she summed up for him. "Isn't it causing more damage, just laying on you like that?" her pitch rose, reflecting the utter impotence she was feeling. 

 

"Not for the moment," he promised.

 

"Is there anything I can do?"

 

"Maybe a blanket?"

 

"Yeah," she smiled, "I can do that."

 

She headed aft in search of the Jumper's emergency supplies. By the time she returned with the papery-thin survival blanket, Carson had already lapsed back into unconsciousness.

 

 

* * * 

 

 

"Oh, hell, no! I am so not dying out here like some red-shirt, sacrificed for the dramatic narrative!" she screamed at the pile of wreckage and ruins, kicking the large monolith for good measure. 

 

Her cries yanked Carson back to awareness with a start.

 

"Alana!" he called out, visions of Wraith swam in his head fuzzily.

 

"Right here, Doc!"

 

She scrambled over the bloodied side of the windscreen, carefully skirting Hastings' body where it still lay half-in, half-out of the cockpit. The broken window might have been the closest entry/exit point in or out of the craft or it may have been the only one - he wondered which.

 

"I heard you scream...I thought..."

 

"Everything's fine," she assured him sheepishly, "I was just having an argument with an inanimate object."

 

"Who's winning?" 

 

"The big rock," she admitted. She took a deep breath before going on, "Doc, we're in a jam here and it ain't strawberry!"

 

Carson grimaced and laughed, a cut-off choking sound that left him clutching his chest. "That was terrible. That joke hurt worse than my ribs do."

 

"Just trying to keep your spirits up," she protested.

 

"Perhaps you shouldn't try so hard," he suggested with a wink.

 

"Yeah, I know...don't make you laugh, right?"

 

"What's the problem, Alana?"

 

"The Gate's DHD. I can't get to it."

 

Carson let that sink in. 

 

"It's sitting on a stone floor of what was probably an Ancient temple or, I don't know, a marketplace," she continued. " When the jumper came through the Gate, it skewed around and slid slide-ways, best I can figure. It's right up against the DHD. It also knocked over an incredibly solid, fairly large piece of wall, a cornerstone. It's laying against the Jumper and - "

 

" - and you can't reach the DHD," Carson finished.

 

"I tried crawling in through the top, there's a gap up there, but," she shook her head, holding up her hands about six inches apart, "it's really small."

 

She sat down on Hastings' pilot's chair, wincing as her weight shifted. The chair had been bent completely sideways in the crash and now lay on its side along the floor at a peculiar angle to its original position.

 

"Are you hurt?"

 

"Did something to my collarbone when I slid off the top of the Jumper. Nothing too bad, just kinda annoying at the moment."

 

"I should look at it, where's my medpack?"

 

"I haven't been able to find it."

 

"It was pretty much empty of anything useable anyway. I left it all behind for the village."

 

"I'm still trying to figure out something to do," she said quietly. 

 

Carson didn't reply, letting her work it out in her own head.

 

"And I will," she promised solidly, remembering she was the one supposed to be doing the cheering up. "I will figure it out."

 

"I have no doubt you will," he agreed. "I've seen you around the city, and I don't think I've ever seen anything get the better half of you."

 

Alana nodded. "I'll get this done. Just gimme a little bit, okay?"

 

He nodded slowly, the movement requiring a lot of concentrated effort.

 

Her face clouded over. "How you doing, Doc?"

 

"Hanging in there. But, hurrying wouldn't be completely remiss at the moment," he added meaningfully.

 

Alana leaned over and squeezed his arm gently before crawling over the mangle of the dashboard and back to the DHD.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When he came to again, Alana was in the rear section of the Jumper, flat out on her stomach, feet pointed toward him and head buried in an engine access panel beneath one of the bench seats. 

 

"How's it going?" he asked.

 

Alana bumped her head soundly backing out of the compartment and Carson winced for her.

 

"I've got an idea," she said.

 

"Okay."

 

"Front console? Pretty much a loss, but I think we can still start the engines."

 

"Great," Carson beamed. "We'll fly ourselves back through the Gate....." he trailed off, seeing the obvious flaw in that plan.

 

"Not so much, really, our flying days in this Jumper are distinctly over and we wouldn't be able to dial the Gate even if we could get in the air."

 

"Then what do the engines do for us?"

 

"I'm thinking I can fire the engines, just bump 'em for a second and maybe nudge the Jumper forwards just a touch - try to get us a little bit of room to crawl under that stone or maybe just knock it out of the way altogether."

 

"Can you do that?" he asked seriously. "I though with the console destroyed, you wouldn't be able to fire them."

 

"I think I can bypass the controls and manually feed raw power to the start-up sequence and cut it off the same way," she explained.

 

"You mean hot-wire them," he smiled appreciatively. "That's bloody fantastic! Do it, then!" he encouraged. "What are ye waiting for?"

 

"There's a catch."

 

"There usually is, my dear. But I got a lot of faith that you can ring it."

 

"Listen, Doc," she interrupted. 

 

"Carson."

 

"Carson," she repeated. ""This is not a sure thing. I can redirect the power, feed it in raw but I can't control what kind bump it'll give the engines. Without computer controls, I have to assume it will be the full force of the engines."

 

"Would that be good or bad?" he asked weakly.

 

"Too much might drive the Jumper right into the DHD and destroy it; too little might not push the monolith out of the way, it might only drive the Jumper into it, crumple the front end. It might do that either way."

 

"Oh," he said simply, the import of what she was saying clear to him. The front end might crumple under the pressure of the monolith and at the moment, he was part of the front end.

 

"All we got to do is get that Gate dialed, send a message, and wait for the calvary to show up."

 

"It's a good plan, Alana."

 

"Yeah, well, I'm good with the Jumpers, we'll see about the rest of it."

 

"You'll be great." He'd meant to answer her confidently but his voice was weak and trailed off. He didn't even try to fight it this time.

 

 

* * * 

 

 

The steady metallic clang brought him around again. Alana was outside, he could hear her hammering away at something, even if he couldn't see anything at all.

 

"Alana?"

 

She appeared in the Jumper window.

 

"Nice to have you back, Doc."

 

"How.....how's your collarbone?"

 

"It stings," she allowed.

 

"How's the rescue coming?"

 

"Not as good as I'd hoped. How are you hanging in there?"

 

"Not as good as I'd hoped," he echoed.

 

"Doc?" she clambered back into the chamber and knelt beside him. Her eyes widened, realizing how pale he'd become.

 

"I think we can definitely include bleeding into my diagnosis," he told her casually.

 

"You think?" she tried for 'light and airy'.

 

"Yes," he confirmed, coughing. "It might be quite a bit."

 

"Quite a bit as in you're losing a lot of blood, or quite a bit as in you're bleeding to death?"

 

"I think I passed that first option some time ago," he answered with a good deal more calm than he felt. "I think it might be time to get me out of here and address the situation."

 

"You said - "

 

"I know what I said. But I think we need to get me out now."

 

His look spoke volumes to her. He was dying and he knew it. Moving the console might release pressure causing uncontrolled bleeding which would kill him if they didn't get it stopped but at this point doing nothing was going to kill him, too. Either way, he was dead. 

 

She climbed back through the broken window to and began to redesign her makeshift trebuchet. She'd originally been planning to try and shift the monolith using the jury-rigged construct but now it would serve a different purpose. Using some cabling salvaged from the cargo bay, she passed it through the main block of the console, securing it to the end of the trebuchet. She'd rigged a simple four-part pulley to the other end and began taking up the standing part of the line. She managed to pull a foot of the cabling through the pulley system but the console only shifted minutely, not enough, not nearly enough. She wrapped the cable around her hips, braced her feet against the monolith and sat back, pushing with her legs to gain a few more inches. She heard the groan of metal under stress and felt the console give slightly. Hopefully it would give her the room she needed. 

 

The room Carson needed.

 

She tied the cable off to the boot of the Jumper and fairly leapt through the window back to Carson. He was passed out cold and with the console pried away she could see the pool of blood under one leg. She pulled him to a clear area and used a bandage to dress the gash on his calf. 

 

“Carson.”

 

He turned away from the sound, he wanted to sleep, to stay sleeping. 

 

"Carson, you have to stay awake! Stay with me!!"

 

He didn't move.

 

“Dr. Beckett! Wake up. I need your help.” 

 

The voice was pleasant, low and even, but rife with urgency. It was nice but he still tried to ignore its irritating insistence. It called him back to the surface, back to consciousness, back to the excruciating pain of his body and the nothingness of his legs. He fought it.

 

“Dr. Beckett, I got hurt. I need your help. I cut my leg, Dr. Beckett. What do I do? The bleeding won’t stop. The cut is really bad.”

 

He stirred, trying to - something to do – what? He needed to help – help her. Her leg. Cut. How bad.

 

“How bad?” he remembered to say out loud.

 

“The bleeding won’t stop. How do I stop the bleeding?”

 

“Pressure……” he slurred, “pressure….on…..on the…..” he drifted off.

 

“Dr. Beckett!” the voice insisted, sharper now. “Where do I put pressure?”

 

“On the wound.”

 

“It’s too big. I can’t.”

 

"Tourniquet...something around the leg just above the wound and - " he began to drift.

 

"Dr. Beckett!" she snapped.

 

"...twist it up tight and tie it off."

 

She yanked out some of the console wiring and wrapped it just under his knee. "Now what?"

 

“How much blood?”

 

“A lot.” Alana twisted the ends of the broken wire together. “You’ve – I’ve…I’ve lost a lot of blood. I can’t stay awake.”

 

“Losing consciousness. Going into shock.”

 

"Dr. Beckett! What do I do for shock, Dr. Beckett?" 

 

She used his name over and over, almost desperately trying to tie him to her and the present, to the need for his skills, to...to her.

 

"Elevate the feet," he mumbled.

 

She lifted his legs, ignoring the bite of pain in her injured arm. The wildly twisted pilot's chair made a perfect prop.

 

He grabbed her arm weakly. "Alana - "

 

She looked up at him, tucking the blanket tighter beneath him.

 

"I think it's time for you to try those engines," he said. As he did, his body went limp and his head fell against the deck of the Jumper. 

 

 

* * * 

 

 

"Doctor, he's coming around."

 

Elizabeth was instantly at the side of the bed.

 

"Carson? How are you doing?"

 

"Perhaps you could tell me," he rasped, "Everything's a little foggy at the moment."

 

"You're doing great," she decided. "You had us worried. When you didn't make it back on time, we sent out a search party. They found the Dart and some pieces off the Jumper but no clue as to where you went."

 

"The DHD - ?"

 

"Destroyed when the Dart hit it," she explained.

 

"I know the feeling." he grumped. 

 

"Hey, Doc! Nice to see you again," Sheppard came in, having been alerted by Elizabeth that the doctor had awoken.

 

"It's nice to be seen, I certainly had my doubts there for a while."

 

"You broke my Jumper, Doc."

 

"Bill me," Carson challenged. 

 

"Good one, Doc!" Sheppard grinned approvingly. "Anything we can get ya? They say it's gonna be a few days before you're back on your feet again."

 

He glanced around the otherwise empty infirmary. "I'd like to know how Alana's doing, she injured her collarbone falling off the Jumper."

 

"She's been taken care of," Elizabeth interjected. "Your staff kept her overnight and released her a few hours ago, she's banged up and bruised pretty badly, her collarbone was dislocated, but otherwise she's fine."

 

"She left saying she was gonna spend four hours in a bathtub," John added.

 

"I'm surprised you were able to keep her overnight." 

 

"She put up a good fight, but I think sheer fatigue won out - after a while she was too tired to fight the docs anymore."

 

"She was a regular force of nature back on that Jumper.....ochhhhhhhh, Elizabeth," he grimaced, memory flooding back, "Hastings and Elton...."

 

"I know. Don't worry about that right now. You and Kassidy made it back, we're grateful for that," Elizabeth placated. 

 

"I am grateful," he breathed a long, deep sigh, his thoughts still on the dead crewmen.

 

"I'll let you get some sleep."

 

"Would you get a message to Alana, tell her I wouldn't mind the chance to say thank you in person?"

 

"I'll tell her to drop in next time you're awake," Elizabeth promised.

 

"Or I could drop in on her, tell her to come see you, I'm not doing anything right now," John offered.

 

"I thought you said she was taking a bath!"

 

"Exactly!"

 

"If you do, I swear to you I will delete your immunization files and your next series of inoculations will be the most painful thing you've ever lived through in your life," Carson promised.

 

Sheppard raised both eyebrows in amusement at the doctor's calm threat. "Yes, sir, Doc. I got it. Hands off!"


End file.
